


Bad Erotica Rewrite #1: The Alchemist

by DocStrunk



Category: Original Work
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Erotica, Gen, Mocking, Prostitution, Rewrite, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 18:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4929913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocStrunk/pseuds/DocStrunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ok, so I can’t find the original, but this is based off of a work called “The Alchemist” or something like that. If someone recognizes the work from this description and knows where it is, please link it to me. I really did try to find it, but there’s a lot of bad erotica with titles based around the word “alchemist” written by authors who brag about being multi-published. The basic gist of this story is that an alchemist, who is a tattoo artist (OBVIOUSLY), is closing up his tattoo shop when a seemingly barely legal homeless girl walks in and asks to exchange sex for a tattoo. She’s all “murmurmur I wanna be beautiful” *sad eyes* and he’s all “broodybroodbrood ‘kay!” (BTW, if you see nothing wrong with this scenario then, congratulations, you are a horrible person.) Anyway, tattooing and fucking commence CONCURRENTLY. As in, he is giving her a tramp stamp while inside of her, which I guess makes the term for the tattoo sort of appropriate, actually…Anyway! The sex is amazing and the tattoo comes out perfectly and (as I recall) both of those things end at about the same time and now she feels beautiful so hooray. Here’s my rewrite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Erotica Rewrite #1: The Alchemist

The Alchemist was closing up his tattoo shop for the night. He was sexfully brooding over the fact that he’d spent four years in college learning to perfect his drawing skills and another four years as an apprentice to a tattoo artist and had spent the past three hours giving some asshole a chest tattoo of a hashtag mosaic that formed “YOLO”. In fucking calligraphy. His internal monologue of unmitigated profanity was broken by the sound of someone walking in.

“Are you The Alchemist?” A voice asked, meekly. He turned to see one of the local oogles. Actually, maybe she wasn’t, white girl dreads aside. She looked like she’d actually slept rough before and there wasn’t a banjo to be seen and she hadn’t immediately demanded anything for free like a spoiled five-year-old.

“Fuckin’ hope so or a lot of people have been confused.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Whaddaya want?” Her eyes grew wide in that way that always meant that someone was going to try to bullshit him out of his fee.

“I want to be beautiful.” She whispered, trying to go for innocent and imploring, but landing squarely in Creepyandsadasfuckville. He hoped she wasn’t going to ask him to peel her skin off; he kinda got that vibe from her. This was such a weird fucking town

“Uh…This izza…tattoo…joint…”

“Yes, and that’s what I want. A beautiful, beautiful tattoo.” There was an awkward silence.

“…Of?” He asked, hoping to every God or Goddess that might be listening that she didn’t request “something fun”.

“A butterfly.” The Alchemist briefly considered stabbing himself through the eye with his tattoo gun before deciding against it, on account of the fact that the needle wasn’t long enough to pierce his brain. “A beautiful butterfly. Isn’t that why they call you The Alchemist? Because you make things beautiful?”

“Actually, it’s because of how often I turn whisky into gold.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Anyway, we—“ he was cut off by the sound of his upstairs neighbor pounding on the floor and his voice coming through the ceiling.

“Just do it, asshole! You owe me fifty bucks!”

“I already got it, Leland!” The Alchemist called back.

“Oh, carry on then!”

“I…don’t have any money.” God damn it, this happened at least once a week.

“I am so fucking shocked.” He responded flatly.

“I do have one thing I can give you though. My…” She pouted her lips and stepped close to him. The last word came out in a dulcet whisper “…poonanner.” The Alchemist burst out laughing.

“What the fuck??”

“Get that shit, man! You get that shit!” Leland called down and laughed with him.

“Jesus, God in fucking heaven, what are you even—?”

“God ain’t got shit to do with it, boy. You best thank her momma, making that sweet fish pie.” The girl started pouting and looked annoyed.

“I mean, fucking Christ, like, do you have ANY idea how much fucking trouble we’d get in?”

“Maybe a lay and some time in jail would teach ya not to be such an asshole, asshole! Not before you give me my fifty bucks though!” The girl started to respond but The Alchemist cut her off.

“Also, who the fuck calls it a “poonanner”? There’s no way you’re legal.”

“Back home we called it a snatch! ‘Cept for momma! She called hers “the money trap” and damned if that wasn’t how she used it! Hey, maybe you could do that for some tattooin’ money!”

“Don’t encourage this, Leland!” The Alchemist was pretty sure he was going to fucking die from laughing. Maybe life wasn’t always an endless cavalcade of shit.

“Hey, young people today ain’t got no drive, man. I’m encouraging the entrepreneurial spirit in this young woman. What, ya scared she’s gonna drive your momma out of business?”

“Thank you, Leland.”

“Cuz, last I heard, she got fired from Pumps for havin’ too many needle marks! People were tryin’ to stuff dollars bills in the bigger ones!”

“ _Thank you,_ Leland.”

“Oh, shit! Ain’t your momma dead? Guess that’s why she was so lazy on the pole last night. Still a better dancer than you though, asshole.”

“ _THANK YOU, LELAND!”_

“Alright, alright…Asshole.” He hadn’t even noticed that the girl had left. The only sign she’d been there was an ID card on the floor. She must have dropped it. He picked it up and read the name on it aloud.

“Jennifer Ann McCarthy.”

And now you know the rest of the story.

 

FIN


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